


Triad of Bad Asses

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Engagement, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Omega Derek Hale, Polyamory, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Leaves, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski Leaves the Pack, Stilinski Family Feels, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 15:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17831390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: He looks over to find his dad and Chris talking about, of all things, hunting—the animal kind, not the supernatural. Jordan and Derek are cuddled together, talking quietly. Jordan hasn’t made a single move to get out of Derek’s lap, and has only settled himself further in it. Peter kisses his neck, and Stiles lets a smile come unbidden to his face, surrounded by his family.





	Triad of Bad Asses

**Author's Note:**

> Written in October of 2017. Found in my WIP folder, cleaned up & posted. Will be backdated in a few weeks.

When Stiles wakes up, he does so slowly. He doesn't notice at first, not really, because he usually wakes up slowly. The first thing he notices is the lack of heat against his back that he's grown accustomed to. There are no arms holding him still, nobody pressed tightly against his own. Then the cold sets in. He’s on some sort of floor—cement most likely—and he's definitely tied up. 

He stretches, or tries to, and has to hold in a groan. He’s tied up  _ good _ , and since he was unconscious, he didn't get a chance to tense up when they did it. The ropes are tight and the first actual thought he forms is that Chris would be impressed by them. Which means that there's  _ no _ way he's getting out. 

When he actually opens his eyes, it's like all his senses come back at once and it  _ hurts _ . It smells like flesh, burning flesh from electrocution, and he gags on it. No matter how often he smells burning flesh it still bothers him, and he's instantly glad Peter isn't here. The second thing is the noises: there's groaning and grunting and the buzz of electricity but other than that nothing. He looks around and realizes that he’s in some sort of warehouse, but he's in a small room. It’s dark which he's immensely thankful for once his headache kicks in. 

His whole body spasms for a moment, and great, his muscles are locking up which means he's been tied up for way longer than he should have been. 

Sleep spell, his brain supplies. Once he knows that his, spark flares in him, magic thrumming under his skin to relax his muscles, soothe his headache and fight off the rest of the smell. He brings his magic to the surface, pushes it outside of himself and into the warehouse. He closes his eyes as his magic stretches out around him. 

The warehouse he's in is big, high ceilings and open concept. He’s in the only room and he feels the mountain ashes that surrounds the entire complex and the room he's in. He feels the others that he can hear, too: an alpha, three wolves, a coyote and a fox. At this, he groans because of-fucking-course. When he feels the magic user it's almost too late to pull back, but this isn't his first kidnapping so he manages to throw his magic around her. She's dark, not especially strong, but she's with seven hunters and a...wendigo? Jeez. 

He pulls his power back in, holding it within himself for a moment, letting it warm him. He focuses on the ropes, pushing magic into them. They’re enchanted, so fuck, this is going to sting. He shrinks into himself, breaking each bone and  _ pulling  _ himself smaller, thin enough for the ropes to fall away. He doesn't outwardly react to the pain, but he knows his heart is skyrocketing and the wolves will most likely be able to  _ hear  _ his bones rearranging, snapping back into place as his magic heals them. 

When he's done, he lets out a breath, because he's only done that once before and  _ damn _ , that fucking hurt. He has to stop himself from outright laughing at it, because somewhere in his mind he knows pain shouldn't be funny. Okay Stiles, getting out. He tries to send reassurance over his pack bond since he's no longer about to die, but he can’t feel them very well with all the runes in this place. Which also means he'll have to get himself out, because even if they can track him they won't be able to get to him. 

He takes another deep breath and  _ finally  _ stands up. Thankfully he’s still clothed—not so thankfully he's in his clubbing clothes.  _ Because of course _ . His jeans are too tight and really not all the comfortable to move in and his t-shirt, or crop top, is black mesh. 

He shakes himself off, annoyed that he doesn't have  _ any _ weapons on him and brings his magic close. Hopefully this witch isn't very powerful. He cloaks his scent and heartbeat before stepping through the wall—yes through it—and throwing up an illusion around himself. No one should be able to see him now. 

He could leave, just walk out, and if this was two years ago, he would have. If this was senior year and he was alone, he would have. But it's not, and he's spent the last two years becoming a pretty known name in the supernatural world. Known for being an on again off again good guy. Unfortunately, he tries to be on the good side. Fucking damn moral compass. 

He blames his Sheriff father for it. 

He’s standing in between his old pack and the group of hunters, still invisible, and focuses. He flicks his gaze to the wendigo and barely has to form the thought before he's ashes. The hunters draw weapons as the witch looks around muttering under her breath. Eight attackers, awesome, good odds. He drops the illusion, grinning because now he’s having fun! 

“How about some hand-to-hand boys?” he purrs, and it comes out as much like a come on as he wanted it to and the hunters all drop the weapons as they melt into piles of scorching metal. “Seven against one, seems fair enough, don't ya think?” 

Before the hunters can react the witch swears, her mumbling getting faster as she throws in some fancy hand movements as well. Stiles  _ tsks _ , shaking his head in disappointment, “That’s no good witchy, can't have you coming in the fight.” His eyes narrow at her, and then she's clawing at her neck as the air is being pulled from her lungs. He hears a gasp behind him, some faint growling and absently flicks his hand in the direction of the electricity, throwing the control hard against a wall, hearing the electricity cut off as it shatters. “So which one of you are going to try me first?”

They come at him as one, and yeah, he could drop all of them right now, but frankly, he enjoys fighting. He dodges a hit, his fist connects with flesh, he moves back, steps forward. He's surrounded and he doesn't care. He starts laughing and that clearly throws off the hunters. The one coming at him falters, and it's enough for Stiles to break his knee with a well-placed kick. He spins, grabbing the wrist that was about to hit his face. He snaps it, breaks the guy's nose and a rib before moving on. 

“This isn't a very fair fight is it?” Stiles laughs again, moving to defence for the hell of it, blocking hits and dodging. “You all suck!”

The taunts seem to be working. Apparently, middle-aged hunters don't like getting there was kicked by a nineteen-year-old twink in clubbing clothes. Stiles laughs again. He disables another two attacks easily enough, and when there’s three left he gets a pretty good punch to the ear. He staggers, curses under his breath as his laughing dies.

“Shit just got real, mother fuckers.” He considers for a moment using magic, getting it over with. Nah, now it's personal. The next one who comes for him gets a broken windpipe, the one after that has a broken forearm and a smashed in knee cap. The last one pulls a knife and that causes Stiles to smile. “Think you can't handle me alone, big guy?”

The man shouts and runs, furious with the taunting and Stiles is elated, because this is  _ exactly  _ what he wanted to happen. He doges, of course, and ends up embedding the dagger into the hunter's neck. He sighs, dropping the man before he turns to the others. They're staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. Looks about right. 

He hears a howl as he's turning back to the witch, dropping the spell he had her under and letting her suck in a few deep breaths. “Look what you've done now! You upset the wolf, dear, which means he's probably going to want to tear your body apart. He's  _ very  _ dramatic like that. I think it’s cute, ya know, how protective he is. But, our relationship is a little on the strange side after all.” 

Stiles closes his eyes as he laughs, pushing his magic out again, testing the wards and shields the witch had set up around the building, “Hmm, sloppy work. I must say, that sleeping spell was  _ fucking awesome _ but everything else is a little...underwhelming. Wards should never be rushed. You’ve gone for a quantity over quality set up, which in theory is better right? Well, in actuality,” Stiles holds a first and sharply twists it, and the wards slam down and the mountain ash barrier blows apart. The witch feels it too, if her cries of pain are anything to go buy. “It’s not that way. It’s easier to break through multiple thin walls than one really thick one.”

He walks over to her and holds out a hand for her to pull her up. He brushes off her shoulders and says, “You’ve got potential, and if my werewolf doesn’t kill you I’d love to help you out. There is really no reason to be teaming up with hunters, okay?” The witch nods, eyes wide, “Can I borrow your phone?”

She hands it over, unlocked, and he cringes when he sees the date and time. “You had me out for  _ three days _ ?” he asks and when she meekly nods he splits out into a huge grin, “Dude! Fuck yeah! That really  _ was _ a good sleeping spell! Oh, uh, why are they here?” Stiles adds when the creatures tied up start making low growly noises and heavily scenting the air.

“If I kidnapped them, the hunters would kidnap you.” The witch says quietly as she looks down.

“Not bad, not bad! Playing with the hunters to  _ get _ something, I can totally respect that.” He smiles down at her. “Here, I’ll try to get him to  _ not _ kill you. I gave you my number, so totally hit me up whenever! Ohhhh! We should totally go out for drinks! God, it is  _ so boring _ dating someone older! Like they’re so bor-!” He’s cut off by a howl that shakes the room, a few windows cave in and he looks over to see Peter in all his Alpha form glory.

He’s a giant wolf, like five and a half feet tall from the tips of his ears. He looks powerful; it oozes from him and is like a tangible thing around him. It makes Stiles blush, because even wolf Peter is hot and that doesn’t make any sense to his brain but all the sense to his boner. He stalks into the room, slow and ready to pounce. He takes everything in, his eyes staying red the whole time. 

Stiles lets his scent and heartbeat return and Peter huffs a breath. He calms a little at that, noting that Stiles isn’t hurt. Chris walks in after him, both pistols drawn and looking every bit the murdering bad ass he is. Yep, the full beard does it for him. Peter lets out a little amused huff, most likely smelling Stiles’ arousal. 

“I made a friend!” Stiles calls happily, looping his arm through the witch, “This is...girl what’s your name?” she mutters Dalila under her breath, entire body rigid. “This is my new friend Dalila! She did sorta kidnap me, and them, but we’re cool now!” he says quickly, probably too fast for most but Chris at least lowers his gun and pulls a pile of clothes out the back pack he’s wearing, “Girl! Wanna go clubbing tomorrow? I haven’t hit up beacon hill nightlife in  _ forever _ !”

The sure she answers with is still quiet, but surer now that Peter isn’t facing them. Chris says  _ “Privacy, Stiles”  _ and he sees Peter began to shift back before throwing an illusion so they’re invisible. He hears the wolves growling get louder as one of the girls let out a broken sob. Oh, right. He turns to them, wills for the ropes to let them go. He lets the four wolves drop, but gently floats the two girls to the floor, because he’s  _ nice _ . Behind him he feels Chris and Peter push against the illusion so he drops it, turning towards them. 

“You,” Peter states pointing a very accusatory finger and Stiles’ chest, “are in  _ so _ much trouble!”

“What! Why am I in trouble for being kidnapped!” Stiles squeaks, looking between the two older men. 

“You left the club,  _ alone _ , and without telling either of us!” Chris snaps out, and oh damn, he’s angry about this.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says which catches them both off guard. He doesn’t apologize much anymore. “I just wanted air, and you two were  _ finally _ dancing together! I almost  _ came _ in my  _ pants _ !” 

Peter chuckles and takes a step forward, then another, until he’s close enough for Stiles to breathe in the scent of him. Stiles bares his neck and lets Peter scent him. If he moans at the drag of Peter’s tongue, well, that’s obviously excusable. “There, all better,” Peter says, stepping back with a smirk.

“Uncle Peter?” Derek chokes out from where he is on the floor. Peter is there in an instant, holding him up and pulling pain. He looks worse off than the other three. Scott’s already standing, staring at Stiles in shock. He focuses his magic, looking at Derek. He’s an omega.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly, dropping down in front of him and placing a hand softly on his forearm, “why are you an Omega?”

Peter’s nostrils flare, eyes going red as he notices. “Didn’t want me.” Is all he answers, and he sounds unbelievable defeated.

“Where’s Cora?” Stiles asks and Derek's eyes shoot up. He knows before Derek says so.

“She left.”

“For her old pack?” The man nods. “Why didn’t you go?”

“Hale land, couldn’t leave it.” 

“How about, we set you up with a plane ticket, you go down and see her and meet her pack, and if it works out I will take Beacon Hills under the protection of my pack?” Stiles asks, rubbing comforting circles into Derek’s arm as he relaxes. He nods again, and Stiles gives him a huge smile looking over to Chris.

“I’ll work on it. Give me a week,” Chris answers with a small smile answering Stiles’. It’s infectious. “You still at the loft?” Derek nods. “Peter will drive you home then, or if you don't want to be alone, back to our Motel.”

Peter just nods, because yeah Chris and Stiles know how important family is to the wolf. Stiles gives him a light peck on the cheek before standing and walking over to Chris, who gives him an amused smirk as Stiles jumps on him, wrapping his legs around the older man's waist as he gets held up. 

“Hey,” Stiles says, grinning ridiculously. “We have dinner with my dad tonight, and he’s gonna be livid if we miss it.” 

Chris is already pulling out his phone and handing to Stiles who calls his dad, “Hey pops! I got a little tied up—No, yeah—No...Not a sex thing this time—Yeah, I was really kidnapped—Nah I beat them up—Okay, yeah—Okay—Only one body!—He had a  _ knife _ , father—Oh, yeah—uh huh—REALLY!?—Awesome! OH! Can Derek come? He was kidnapped too—yeah I actually rescued all of them?—god no—oh cool—right—no—yes?—okay! Love ya!. Okay so dad is expecting us in an hour, also Jordan will be there.”

He laughs when Chris starts pressing kisses into his face, his beard rubbing and burning. “We have to go get ready!” He laughs out, trying to wiggle out of Chris’ arms. Where’s he’s still sitting. Fuck, Stiles  _ really _ likes being carried. It’s so hot. 

“Alright,” Chris answers, amusement flooding his eyes as he lets his boyfriend down. He looks over at the group with a frown, they’re all huddled together staring. Scott looks completely disgusted and Isaac just looks confused. Malia is clearly amused and Kira is probably in shock. Chris doesn’t know the other wolf though, he’s been gone longer than Stiles and Peter and has clearly missed some stuff. “Did you kids need a ride?”

“Oh my  _ god Chris no _ ! If we’re late to my Dad I am going to  _ kill _ you!” And then Stiles is pulling Chris out of the warehouse, walking a little faster than necessary. When they stop in front of the car, he lets the mask fall, lets exhaustion from using so much energy creep in as he falls forward. He presses his face against Chris’ chest, letting the older man hold him up. “I don’t want to see them.” He whispers, voice soft and so close to breaking that it scares him. He never wants to be that weak again. 

“Then you won’t,” Chris tells him, kissing the top of Stiles’ hair. They stand there for a minute until the others came out. Chris pulls away, folding Stiles into the passenger seat of his car. When they are out of supernatural ear shot Chris takes Stiles hand and says, “Let’s go get ready. Sleep now, I’ll wake you once we get to the Motel.” 

* * *

When Stiles wakes up, Chris is lifting him out of the car back at the motel they were supposed to be staying in. Peter’s car is there too, and when they get inside Peter is sitting on the bed and the shower is running. Stiles yawns when Chris lets him down and walks over to the bed to crawl into Peter’s lap. “Wake me when I can shower. Dad wants us at 6.”

The next time he wakes up it’s because water is running down his face. He turns to see Peter, in the shower with him. “Hi,” he says, smiling as Peter starts shampooing both of their hair.

“Hello darling,” Peter says, scrubbing at Stiles scalp. “Please try to stop being kidnapped, yes?”

“You know I try!” Stiles protests, reaching for the body wash before lathering them both up. They’ve gotten mutual showers down to a science. Being on the run can be messy, and sometimes there’s really just not enough time for three men to shower separately. Like now, the touches never become sexual, the only purpose is to get clean and in five minutes the water is being turned off. 

They step back into the room where Chris and Derek are talking, looking at something on Chris’ tablet. Stiles walks to his suitcase and looks up when Chris laughs. Derek's eyes are tightly shut, and his ears are unbelievably red. That’s when Stiles remembers he’s naked. He quickly pulls a pair of underwear and some skinny dark wash jeans before saying, “Coast is clear!” When Derek opens his eyes Stiles adds, “Sorry dude, not used to having to wear clothes in private.” 

Derek stays quiet for a moment, then asks, “So, you three?”

“Yep!” Stiles says, pulling on a red t-shirt. It’s not as tight as his others, worn and a little stretched from one time Peter wore it for an hour. “We’re all dating. Each other. One big triangle of love!”

Peter laughs from behind him. He’s dressed in light wash jeans and a white v-neck. Both ridiculously tight. Derek seems to consider it for a moment, then looks to his uncle and asks, “Are you happy?”

“More so than I’ve ever been,” Peter answers, and Derek says  _ okay  _ before going back to whatever he was reading with Chris. Stiles goes over for a kiss before walking over to the bed.

“Hey Der, so we’re having dinner with my dad tonight, and Jordan Parrish will also be there, did you want to come as well?”

Derek just blinks at him, eyes darting between him and Peter who nods reassuringly. “Okay.” He leans into Chris and drops his voice, asking, “Is that seriously Peter?”

Chris and Stiles both laugh which makes Peter pout. “Yeah, he’s a giant puppy now.” 

“I am not!” Peter cries, flashing his Alpha eyes at the three. They just laugh some more. He decides to check his phone.

“Oh, it’s five thirty. Chris, you better change.”

“Why would I change?” Chris asks as he looks down at his outfit.

“We are not meeting with Stiles’ father while half your outfit is combat leather,” Peter answers, digging through the second duffle bag. Peter pulls out black jeans and a navy t-shirt, tossing them to Chris who mumbles but starts stripping and changing. 

Stiles let out a wolf whistle when he gets his shirts off which makes Derek look uncomfortable and Peter laugh. “Derek, would you like a shirt?”

Derek looks down then, seeming to just now notice how his is in tears. He nods, and Peter pulls out a t-shirt from the bag of Chris’ clothing because even if he looks thinner his arms are bigger than Peter’s. 

When they’re all dressed Stiles claps his hands together and the bags all lift into the air. “Let’s get this show on the road!

* * *

They arrive at Stiles’ childhood home, the one he hasn’t seen in over a year, at exactly five-fifty-five to see John waiting on the front steps. Stiles is out and running before the car even stops, hopping out the door and running to his dad. The hug is tight, desperate, and pretty soon both Stilinskis are crying. They don’t move for ten minutes, and then they’re both wiping at their eyes and laughing.

“Okay dad, I would like to officially introduce you to my boyfriend’s whom you already know! Petey-Pie and Chrissy-Cakes!”

“Do you really call them that?” John laughs and Peter growls.

“Only to annoy them!” Stiles says, laughing at the look of disgust on Chris’ face. 

Chris recovers first though, stepping up the step and holding out a hand. “Christopher Argent, sir.”

John just laughs and pulls him into a hug. It’s weird, Chris thinks, since they’re almost the same age. But John doesn’t seem to mind. Peter comes up once they’ve broken away and goes straight for a hug, lifting John off his feet. “Wonderful to meet you sir, Peter Hale,” he says with a bow.

“Oh  _ my god, Peter _ ! Dad, I’m dating the biggest drama queen ever!” Stiles complains, pushing Chris and Peter into the house and yelling “DEREK COME INSIDE!”

“Derek, good to see you, son,” The Sheriff says, pulling the young man into a hug as well.

“Thank you for having me,” he answers. They both quickly enter the house when they hear a shout.

* * *

“When did  _ this _ happen?”

The way Jordan is motioning to Stiles’ body causes him to laugh. He doesn’t think about how much his body has changed, but he supposes Jordan has a point. His face is hard, his shoulders wide with a thin waist. He’s all lithe muscles and sharp angles now, and his hair a little longer. Chris likes being able to tug it. 

“You ever heard of the Triad?” he asks.

His eyes go wide as he takes in the others, like he’s only just now seeing Chris and Peter behind him. When he answers it's a whisper. “No way. You’re a myth.” 

“Nah man, pretty real! Also, don’t hate me, but I’m dating those two.” He goes to Jordan, planting a loud kiss to his cheek before hugging him and saying, “Guess we weren’t meant to be.” 

They laugh as they pull away, and Jordan ruffles Stiles’ hair. Peter gives them a very confused look and Jordan answers sheepishly, “We had a thing, for a while. Mostly just, really aggressive flirting.”

“I used to make Jordan blush,” Stiles sing songs before moving to the oven, laughing at Peter’s growl. He opens the oven door and lifts out the dish with his magic, deeply inhaling as closes the oven door. “Okay, who cooked?”

“I did!” His dad calls from where he’s moved into the kitchen. 

“Oh wow, I’m really proud dad,” Stiles says, a small smile directed to his dad who returns in. He starts magically setting the table, plates and utensils flying about the room and everyone but Peter and Chris back up. “Alrighty, table set, food out, hmm, drinks?” Stiles asks turning the for now standing just outside the kitchen. Peter has already sat at one head, with Chris to his left. “Guys?”

John goes to sit beside Chris but Peter directs to him to the other head of the table. “Oh my god guys, really. Chill with the proper seating armaments tonight!”

“ _ Fine _ , I will ignore centuries of tradition for you,” Peter counters, smirking.

“Okay, sure, you have a point. But they aren’t a pack, so we don’t need your rules! I’m sitting beside Dad, anyway.”

* * *

By the time they’re all sitting down and eating, the laughter is coming fairly easily. Stiles tells stories of his time away, their adventures, and he shows off a little bit with his magic. Eventually, Peter joins into the conversations, and slowly Chris. Derek and Jordan seem to get along really well, and hold their own conversation most of the night. When dinner’s over and they’re back in the living room, Stiles makes his announcement,

“So Dad, I’m visiting because I have something to tell you,” he starts, and the look of fear on his father's face makes him feel incredibly guilty. “Oh my god no! It’s nothing bad! I’m engaged! Or, we’re engaged? All of us are engaged to each other?” 

“Oh son, that’s great!” John exclaims, clapping Chris on the back as they’re sitting beside each other.

“Yep! I know we can’t get married, but I wanted to be able to call them my fiancé’s and not just my boyfriends.”

“Who asked who?”

“Oh,” Stiles says, blushing even harder than Chris is, “well, we were in the shower, together, and I was like ‘hey guys I love you both and want to spend the rest of my life with you guys, so will you marry me?’ It was hilarious because Peter slipped and fell on his ass, then complained for half an hour about how sore it was even though he’s a  _ werewolf _ .”

“Well isn’t that quite the story,” John says laughing. “I asked Claudia after pulling her over for speeding.” 

“No way!” Jordan says as Stiles laughs.

“Yes way. I told her, just because you’ll be my wife one day doesn’t mean you can ignore the law,” John says, a small smile on his face. “Then she sped away laughing.”

“Also quite the story,” Peter muses. 

“I think it’s cute,” Derek says, and Stiles notices the way he’s sitting next to Jordan. They aren’t touching, but both their bodies are angled towards each other, and he can see the interest in Derek’s eyes, and the smile Jordan is wearing is his  _ ‘I’m flirting the fuck out of you’ _ .

Stiles can’t help it, and asks, “So JoJo, you seeing anyone?”

“Why, you jealous?” he calls back, smirking at the teen.

“Not me, but someone might be,” Stiles says, laughing at the confused look on Jordan’s face.

“Really Stiles,” Peter begins, “We kill supernatural creatures, we are  _ not _ in the business of matchmaking.”

“Awh babe,” Stiles complains and climbs into the wolf's lap nuzzling his neck. “They’d go so well together!”

“Who?” Jordan asks again, and Stiles sees his eyes glance to Derek. 

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Stiles complains before magically lifting Jordan into Derek’s lap who instinctively wraps his arms around the other man. Jordan blushes furiously as he looks at Derek who’s happily rumbling low in his chest and nuzzling the deputies neck. “Jordan, you should take Derek out on a date tomorrow.” Jordan just nods as one of his hands runs through Derek’s hair and the rumbling turns to purring. It seems natural to both, and maybe there’s a deeper connection that just hadn’t been realized. “That’s the cutest fucking thing ever. Peter, why do you not purr for me?”

“He purrs for me,” Chris says with a smirk, which should be flirty but leaves Stiles feeling a little hollow. He’s not usually insecure about his relationship. He knows most things they do as a unit, but sometimes they have sex without him, and sometimes he has sex with one without the other. But dates are always done as a trio, and things like Peter purring should be too. 

“Stiles, stop with those thoughts,” Peter says with a whine, pressing kisses into Stiles’ neck. “I  _ only _ ‘purr’ when Chris runs his fingernails over my scalp. You, my dear, are a horrible nail biter. That is all.” 

“Oh, well that’s alright,” Stiles tells him, relaxing back into Peter’s lap. 

He looks over to find his dad and Chris talking about, of all things,  _ hunting _ —the animal kind, not the supernatural. Jordan and Derek are cuddled together, talking quietly. Jordan hasn’t made a single move to get out of Derek’s lap, and has only settled himself further in it. Peter kisses his neck, and Stiles lets a smile come unbidden to his face, surrounded by his family.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> [my dreamwidth](https://lavenderlotion.dreamwidth.org/) and my [my tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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